


Madly

by LetThereBeDestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dogs, Alternate Universe - High School, Crushes, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Teen Castiel, Teen Dean Winchester, dog park au, time parallels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 20:35:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4151961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetThereBeDestiel/pseuds/LetThereBeDestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Dean smiled and turned silently to watch the sky. Cas examined his profile, beautiful and calmer than he had used to be around Cas years ago.<br/>Something twitched in his chest; something he hadn’t felt for years. This possibility, chance, hope for something. Dean has always intrigued him - but now it seemed like the feeling wasn’t mutual anymore. Not completely. <i><br/>~<br/>Cas walkes his dog to the park every day. Then, one day, his old classmate's dog runs into him, and they meet for the first time in years and develop a fast-building friendship. The only problem is, they both seem to have a hard time expressing their feelings.</i></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Madly

Castiel stepped out of the elevator and walked through the hallway until he reached the door of his apartment. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and yawned, thinking about his chores for today: make food, eat and wash the dishes; do laundry, hang laundry, sweep the floor and work some. He couldn’t postpone his house chores any longer - the laundry bag was overfilled and he felt the dust on the floor when he walked barefoot around the house.

He stuck the key into the lock, turned it and pushed the door open, smiling at the happy bark that was heard through the door.

“Hey, buddy,” he laughed and rubbed the head of his Golden Retriever as he pressed his nose to Castiel’s shin, sniffing him excitedly and barely letting him into the apartment.

Castiel shed his trench coat and went to change his suit into something more comfortable before taking his dog for a walk. It was just chilly outside and a coat was not at all necessary, but he liked wearing his trench coat for some reason, even though it looked a little funny on him. Maybe it was because his ex hated it. Also, Dog seemed to like it.

He stepped out of his bedroom a few moments later, wearing a jacket and a pair of jeans, and grabbed Dog’s leash on his way to the door.

“Come on, buddy,” he called and connected the leash to his dog’s collar when he came running from the bedroom. Castiel looked around his empty apartment; sometimes he wondered how it would be to have someone to come home to.

He shook the thought away and opened the door, pulling Dog outside after him.“Let’s go!”

 

FIVE YEARS EARLIER

 

“C’mon, Sammy, let’s go!” Dean smirked at his little brother from the shotgun seat and slid out of the car.

He had a good feeling today - new year, new state, new school. New girls to date, which was a blessing, since all the girls in his old school either hated him or were completely in love with him. Foreigner’s _Long, Long Way From Home_ was playing on the radio, which made Dean’s morning feel light with extra confidence. To his side, though, his brother got out of the car with a gloomy expression.

“I hate being the new kid,” Sam muttered dejectedly. Dean didn’t mind, though; he could use the mysteriousness.

“Cheer up, Sammy,” he said and patted on his brother’s back. “This is going to be fun.”

“This is going to be horrible,” Sam mumbled and dragged his feet on the sidewalk towards the building.

Dean left his brother on the second floor and kept his way up the stairs. The hallways were full of students and some looked at him with interest, but most of them ignored him. He wasn’t different, for once. No one knew him for hitting on any girl in school or breaking into the principal’s office.

He’d have to build up his reputation again.

It took him a few minutes to find his class after the bell rang and when he did, he knocked on the door before entering.

The teacher was already reading the students' names, but when Dean walked in she stopped and turned to him. A few students stared at him with wonder - who would be late for the first day of school? From the eased positions of some kids in their seats and the idle way they gazed around the room he figured most of the class was already familiar with this school, from their older siblings or from going here in middle school.

The teacher approached the class and introduced him. Dean tried to pay attention, but a couple of seconds later he was out of focus already, examining the faces who looked at him curiously.

“This is Dean Winchester,” the teacher announced. “He just moved here from Kansas.” Dean’s eyes skipped over the students, from the front of the class - where a redheaded girl gave him an innocent smile with a suggestive spark of the eye - all the way to the back, where two students were arguing, quietly but hotly. One of them wore a confident smirk and seemed to tease the other, who was furrowing his forehead with anger and slight offence. The teacher kept talking without paying attention to them, and as she did so,  Dean watched one of the arguing students - the upset one with the dark hair and the blue eyes - stand up quietly and slide into the seat beside him, by a vacant table.

“Pick a seat and take your books out,” the teacher said then, and gave Dean’s shoulder a gentle pat. He scanned the room and found that the only two vacant spots were now beside the brown-haired, smirking guy and by the boy he was teasing earlier.

Dean made his way to the end of the class slowly, smirking at the students who watched him, his bag hanging from one shoulder and his motions eased. He stopped by the two empty chairs on the back, hesitated for a second, and then slid into one of them.

“Hey, I’m Dean,” he said with a grin and looked at his new table partner.

The other student pulled his eyes out of his book and looked at Dean, apparently surprised at Dean's friendliness. 

“Castiel,” the student responded, and gave him the slightest of smiles.

 

Dean tried.

He really, really did try.

Usually he’d have no problem hitting on someone. Hell, he used to flirt with any girl who just looked at him.

Maybe it was because _he_ wasn’t a girl.

Maybe it was because his eyes always caught Dean unprepared - not just the startling blue, but the expression behind it, as if he didn’t quite understand why his already-popular classmate would talk to a no-one like him.

Or maybe it was the fact that Dean had never been in love with the people he flirted with.

Cas was different. 

Talking to anyone else in school, Freshman to Senior, he'd have no problem at all. Cas was a completely different story. He would say, “hey, Cas,” or “get this”. He would try to smile and come out with a nervous purse of his lips. He would stutter. He would blush. And he would never manage to say what he had wanted to say - neither was it “would you like to go out sometime?” nor “you’ve got something in your hair”.

And so he found himself on the last month of the year, occasionally staring at his lab partner with intensity, and then just lowering his stare when Cas looked up.

The next year Dean didn’t sit beside Cas anymore. He entered the class with Lisa Braeden and just as she pulled him towards a vacant table he saw Uriel asking Cas if the seat beside him was taken. Cas watched Lisa pulling Dean toward the table and mumbled a “no” to the question. Dean, watching Uriel fill the spot by his crush, didn’t object to the pull on his hand. For one moment their stares collided, and Dean could see something heating behind Cas’ eyes, like a quiet flare of hope. Then he turned his head away.

The rest of the year wasn’t any more successful for Dean.

He still tried to talk to Cas, though, never giving up, but he never managed to say what he wished to.

Sometimes they’d find themselves on the same team in a basketball game during PE. Dean would pass the ball straight to Cas whenever it bounced into his hands, using the fact that he always watched Cas as an opportunity for a quick reaction. Cas would catch it with an instinct and smile at Dean, sharing the realization of their out-of-the-ordinary chemistry. And then, when class ended, maybe they’d exchange a few words.

“How are you, Dean?”

“Great.”

Reddening cheeks. A hesitant smile.

“Good.”

A moment of silence.

“You?”

“Fine, I guess.”

 _Why?_ Dean desperately wanted to ask. _Why are your lips curving downwards like that? Tell me of all your problems. Let me ease it for you, just a bit._

But he couldn’t. 

He never could.

One time, in Senior year, Cas caught Dean staring at him at lunch. He raised his eyebrows with invitation, but Dean ducked his head miserably and pushed his food aside, avoiding his friends' strange looks at him.

He would just make a fool of himself, he reminded himself.

At last, Dean found himself on the last day of high school, deliberating and fiddling with his things until everyone was out of the classroom.

Everyone, except for Cas.

He was standing at the back of the room, looking at Dean, his bag packed and put on the floor beside him.

Dean looked around him uncertainly. “A-are you waiting for me?”

Cas’ eyes lit somewhat with amusement. “You seemed as if you had something to say to me.”

His voice sounded rougher than Dean remembered it to be, and he realized he hasn’t heard Cas’ voice in the last few months at all.

“Yes,” Dean said hotly, but he already lost his track of thoughts. “I had. I…” he trailed off, trying to gain courage. What did he try to say before Cas’ voice distracted him? He couldn’t remember. “Yes.”

They waited.

Another minute passed.

Dean assumed Cas would be annoyed by having to wait for some stupid ass to blur out a few words, but when he finally looked up, Cas didn’t look upset. His eyes were soft, and a little… expectant?

No, that was ridiculous.

“I’ll walk you out?” Cas offered. Dean found that he liked Cas’ voice, with its new deeper tone.

“That would be nice,” he managed, smiling timidly as Cas grabbed his bag and stepped forward.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Cas asked while they walked slowly through the empty hallways.

“I…” Dean started, but changed his question mid-speaking. “Which college are you going to?”

He prayed it to be the local university, but Cas said, “Stanford.”

Dean’s heart sank.

“Oh.”

No point in saying anything now, he mumbled in his head.

“Where are you going to study?” Cas asked.

“Here,” Dean answered gloomily. They stepped out of the building, the bright sun blurring Dean’s vision.

“Was there… anything else?” Cas asked, uncertain, before they separated.

Dean looked over at the coffee shop on the other side of the road, a thousand answers coming up in his mind.

“No, that’s all.” He tried for a smile, and Cas did the same.

“See you around, then,” Cas said and turned away, and Dean imagined he heard a disappointed note in his voice.

The morning after, Cas was already on the bus to his new town, wanting to get away from home as fast as possible and settle down in the city before he started college. Maybe get a job, or a partner, make a few friends. Fresh start.

The ride was long, and at some point he began to wonder about Dean Winchester. He wondered why Dean has always been so flustered by his presence - sometimes by his stare alone - and why he hadn’t just asked him out. He would’ve said yes.

Maybe Cas read the signs wrong, and Dean wasn’t at all interested in him. There wasn’t a way to find out now, he guessed.

He brushed the thought away with a sigh and turned to gaze at the beautifully green, vivid forests that spread on the mountains outside the bus.

 

NOW

 

The sky was darkening slowly, street lamps already starting to light up, but the city was still dully bright with daylight. They made their swift way towards the park, Dog running lightly and Cas walking fast to catch up a few feet behind him. The long hard-fabric leash stretched between them.

They both liked the park. Cas would let Dog run around free and play with the other dogs, while he himself would sit on the grass and watch his surroundings.

He knew it was weird, but he liked to look at the people who came to the park. After a few days he could already tell the regular visitors and the ones who were paying a one-time visit apart.

His favorites were an old couple who would come every weekend and sit by the lake, holding hands. He couldn’t hold back a smile when he looked at them; it seemed to him as though they looked at each other with such certainty, like they were positive that this was what they wanted for the rest of their life. He wished he were that sure about someone, or that he ever would be.

Except for them, there was a young woman who’d come every couple of days to feed the pigeons, and two daily regular visitors like him, both dog owners - a man who used to run after his black dog around the park - which seemed like an exhausting exercise, considering that his dog always ran _fast_ \- and a girl who’d take her Husky for a daily walk around the park.

As soon as they arrived, Cas released Dog from his leash and sat down on the grass at the side of the park, watching him make his way running towards another dog. He seemed to be heading in the direction of the lake, at a side far from the road, so Cas figured he could lie down for a few minutes without worrying. He watched the sky, clouds slowly stirring across it, the grass twitching beneath his arms and leaves curling around their branches above him with the wind.

He yawned again, raising his hand to his mouth automatically. God, he was so tired…

He was starting to wonder whether he should get up and make sure Dog was still playing by the lake when he heard paws leaping on the ground around him - not just a set of four… there were a couple. He heard an unfamiliar soft bark and someone whistled as he got up.

“Kansas, no - wait,” said a man’s voice as a dog jumped on Cas and tried to lick his face. He smiled and pushed it back, rubbing its head when it sat near him, breathing excitedly with tongue out. He recognized it - it was the black dog that belonged to the man who liked running. Dog came running and stood by his other side, wagging his tail. The three of them watched the man approaching near them, half running.

“Sorry 'bout her,” the man apologized. Cas was about to say he didn’t mind, when their eyes met.

They both froze, the man standing a couple of feet away from Cas, whose hand stuck on the black dog’s back and hung there, as if glued to the fur.

“Cas?” the man asked reluctantly. Slowly, his hand rose to run through his hair.

“Dean,” Cas blurted incredulously. He looked Dean over - he was a little taller now, Cas thought, than the last time he’d seen him. His body was firmer but still lithe. His face didn’t change at all.

“What are you doing here?” Dean asked, a bit of a shock in his voice. “I thought you were going to Stanford.” He stepped closer, sitting beside his dog slowly and looking at Cas, like he wanted to make sure Cas was alright with him sitting there.

Cas' eyebrows furrowed. It was impressive, and just a bit odd, how quickly Dean seemed to recall their last conversation from years ago. 

“Yes, I was - I did,” he said, looking at Dean who sat only two feet away from him, his eyes fixed on Cas'. “I graduated a few months ago and came back here. I've got a place a couple of blocks away.”

“Oh,” Dean said. “Same here.” They sat in silence for an awkward minute, watching the wind go through leaves and hairs, scattering them in all directions.

“So, Kansas?” Cas asked with a small smile after a while, his eyes lingering on the black Retriever beside him. She looked a lot like Dog, naturally, and they seemed to get along pretty well.

“Yeah,” Dean smirked. “Got her at the shelter. She’s a good dog.” He leaned back, leaning his torso on his elbows. Cas watched his chest go up and down slowly.

“After the band or the state?” Cas asked. Dean looked at him with wonder, as if he wouldn’t guess Cas knew the band. Or the state.

“Both,” he replied. “What’s yours’ name?”

Cas pressed his lips together, blushing. “Dog,” he said reluctantly. Dean burst out laughing, as he expected.

“Well, it’s… accurate,” he remarked. “How’d you come up with that?”

Cas looked at his dog, patting his head. “Couldn’t think of something more suitable,” he admitted, shrugging. Dean smiled again and nodded understandingly, turning silently to watch the sky. Cas examined his profile, beautiful and calmer than he had used to be around Cas years ago.

Something twitched in his chest; something he hadn’t felt for years. This possibility, chance, hope for something. Dean has always intrigued him - but now it seemed like the feeling wasn’t mutual anymore. Not completely.

Dean watched the park quietly for a few minutes, and Cas felt the need to continue the conversation intensify with every minute passing. What if he didn’t say anything and Dean would leave and they’d never talk again, like almost happened last time?

This was a second chance, he mumbled in his mind to encourage himself.

“I see you around sometimes,” he blurted.

 _Probably not the best start,_ he muttered to himself. _Hey, I’m that guy you had a crush on in high school and hadn’t seen for three years. Wanna go out sometime? I secretly watch you every day so I know you like to have coffee on the weekends after your run._

“Huh?” Dean turned to look at him.

“You know,” he cursed himself and blushed, but he couldn’t take it back now. “Running with your dog. I come here every day, so I have a chance to… uh, know the regulars.”

Dean’s lips parted with a wide grin. “You lazy ass, you sit here and watch other people while we run?” he stuck an elbow in Cas’ ribs fondly. Cas shrugged, a smile creeping onto his face.

They kept sitting in silence, until Kansas started barking at a bicycling woman, standing up and beginning to run lightly towards the woman as she passed by them. Dean got up in a rush, worriedly watching Kansas follow the woman excitedly, and turned around to look down at Cas. “See you around,” he blurted, hovering to receive Cas’ answer before he ran after his dog and stopped a national disaster.

“Yeah,” Cas mumbled. He was pretty sure Dean wasn’t going to want to sit with him again doing nothing, like today. 

He watched Dean’s back become slightly smaller with every wide step he took, his T-shirt hanging on his shoulders and waving down his back in a way-too-attractive way for a guy to be.

 

The hot water burned his skin. It took him a few seconds to get accustomed to the heat, but when he did, he let the steamy flow of the water wash over his body and relieve it.

Completing all the tasks of today, his thoughts already drifted to those of tomorrow; his mind would never let him rest, always involuntarily occupying itself with the next step as soon as the one ended.

He let his mind drift towards shopping-list and set-the-alarm-clock. After ten minutes he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, his bare feet pressing onto the cold floor tiles, careful not to slip. He slid his fingers across the mirror, wiping the steam and leaving the middle clear, watching his flattened hair leave little streams of water on his face through the mirror. He stared at himself for a moment, his mind sinking into the current case in his work. Then he shook his head, drops of water shooting into the air off his dark locks of hair, and stepped out to his cool bedroom.

Putting on a pair of sweatpants and lying down on the bed after he turned off the lights, his thoughts wandered towards his visit at the park today, and Dean Winchester.

He let out a long exhale and closed his eyes.

Dean’s smile, his eyes on him, their easy conversation…

God, he thought to himself, too deep in sleep to snort. He was gayer than he remembered being a couple of years ago.

 

When Cas went to the park with Dog the next day, he sat at the exact same spot he did yesterday; maybe Dean would notice him and smile, or even come and say hi.

For half an hour or so he watched his dog run around the park and play with other dogs, while he secretly tried to look for Dean. He didn’t find him, and eventually he gave up and stopped looking, trying not to feel disappointed.

He hoped to see Dean again, but more than that he mostly hoped Dean didn’t stop going to the park because of him. That was reasonable, avoiding going somewhere because you didn’t want to see someone you knew in high school. In fact, in most cases, it was the advised course of action. Apart from being an awfully tedious person, he hadn’t managed to say much yesterday. He felt like he was reliving his high school days, blushing and crushing, but Dean had clearly moved on from that a long time ago.

“Hey, plaid!” he heard a sudden voice behind him and someone skidded to a sitting position on the grass beside him.  He looked aside, surprised to see Dean leaning on his elbows beside him, a dopey smile spread across his face.

“Nice shirt,” he commented on Cas’ blue plaid.

Cas gulped and slowly turned his head back forward. “Thanks,” he said, trying to hide his own smile.

“So how are you?” Dean asked. He seemed to be in a good mood today, grinning and moving in his cheered-up way. His dog was jogging by the lake with Dog and another dog chasing her.

“I’m good,” Cas answered reluctantly, omitting the fact that his answer would’ve been different a couple of minutes ago. “You look cheered up,” he commented.

“Just glad I could make it here,” Dean mumbled without further explanations. With the dimming sunlight hitting his eyes, Cas couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw blush rising up Dean’s face.

Dean stayed longer this time, long enough for the sun to set and for Cas to be having to leave.

He spoke a lot - about his brother at university, his dad - who died a year ago while saving his life during a robbery - and his job at the record store. How much he loves his dog. How sometimes he gets lonely in his small apartment.

“I know the feeling,” Cas said with a dull smile. “That’s why I got a dog.”

Dean let out a snort, and Cas’ smile widened with embarrassment.

“What?”

“N’thing. Just forgot how much we’re…”

“Alike?” Cas completed the sentence hopefully.

They stared at one another’s eyes for a long moment, Cas searching inside Dean’s - was something there? Did he just want it to be? Had Dean been wondering about him, like he himself has done less and less until they’d met again?

“I really have to go,” he murmured eventually.

He stood up and whistled Dog to come back from his running around the park, leaving Dean sitting on the grass with Kansas’ head resting on his leg.

Cas turned away, but as he started to walk towards the soil path, he heard Dean’s voice behind him.

“Hey, Cas?”

He turned around.

After a second’s hesitation, Dean said, “See you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yes,” Cas assured him. Then he smiled timidly and walked away.

 

Sliding into the grass and sitting down, Dean kept Cas company the next day, too.

And the day after.

And for the next week, and the rest of the month.

Sometimes he arrived panting and sweating from running, sometimes he deserted his exercise in favor of sitting next to Cas the whole time he was there. Sometimes he’d come for only a few minutes, sometimes he’d stay and they’d talk for hours.

From some point on, it became slightly more difficult to talk to Dean each time.

The usual conversation was no harder, and as Dean felt similarly, Cas found himself talking to him more easily. 

Inevitably, Cas began to wonder if something more was happening. Or could happen. And although Dean’s new way of self confidence, sometimes Cas thought he saw in his eyes a held-back spark, and figured Dean might still have a hard time speaking out his thoughts.

The problem was, he did too.

On one especially sunny afternoon, he gained courage.

Dean was talking to him about cars, both of them sitting by the shades of a big tree, Dean repetitively throwing a tennis ball across the park for their dogs to catch and bring back.

“Most people think that the new cars are better,” he said and tossed the ball with a quick thrust of his arm. “But I prefer the classics.” He shrugged.

“Still have that old Chevy Impala you used to drive with to school sometimes?”

“Obviously” Dean grinned, patting on Dog’s head when he dropped the ball in his lap. “My baby’s almost fifty years old and she’s driving like new.”

“I have no idea how you manage that,” Cas murmured and Dean laughed. With the thin leaves above them detaining the sun from tinting Dean’s skin with warmth, his face looked almost dimmed, freckles soft and blending with the light and green eyes standing out like two living creatures in a sunny meadow.

“I…” Cas began, but his dry throat betrayed him.

“Hmm?” Dean looked at him and he tried again.

“I was thinking… maybe you want to, um, sometime…” Dean stared at him, not making many efforts to help him with his stuttery struggle for words.

“I mean, my apartment is pretty close, and I was thinking - um, maybe you’d like to pay a visit sometime.”

Dean’s cheeks reddened somewhat, reflecting Cas' deep blushed face.

 _Oh god,_ he thought, _just like in high school. Like we haven’t grown at all._

“Um,” Dean said. “Sure. Why not.”

And so was it. Three park-visits later, Cas found himself fiddling with the keys of his apartment, with Dean and two dogs behind him.

“Quite boring,” he pointed out as he got in, Dean following him, both of them glancing over the white walls.  “Haven’t really gotten the chance to settle in yet.”

“I think it’s nice,” Dean asserted as he looked around. The couch was a brownish-red, and on the television counter there were a few framed pictures of Cas and his siblings.

“Do you want a coffee, or anything?” Cas asked as he freed Dog from his leash.

“That’d be nice,” Dean said. While Cas turned to make them coffee, Dean leaned against the kitchen counter next to him.

In the comfortable silence, only the soft growls and huffs of the kettle and the rattle of a teaspoon against a mug was obvious to Cas’ ears.

“You remember high school?” Dean asked after a moment.

“Vaguely,” Cas joked, not bothering to turn around and hinder his coffee-making process.

Dean’s voice dropped somewhat, as if he were speaking of a serious matter. “It’s been almost three years. I don’t feel any different.”

“In what way?” Cas tried to keep his voice stable, but it came out edgy.

“I mean, I’ve finished college. I have a job and a place of my own, but I don’t feel like an adult.”

“Oh.” Cas cleared his throat lightly and handed Dean his mug. “I know what you mean, then." He snatched Dog’s biscuits from the table and called him, sitting to Dean’s feet on the floor when Dog and Kansas came running.

“I hate to leave him at a small space like that all day,” he said as he opened the biscuits bag. “But he doesn’t seem to mind, as long as I let him desecrate the furniture.”

Dean snorted. “Tell me about it.”

While Dean drank his coffee, Cas gave Dog and Kansas their biscuits and then closed the bag and leaned his head against the kitchen cupboard, next to Dean’s leg.

“You see, I tricked you into thinking there’d be something interesting when I asked you to come over,” he said after a moment of silence, and Dean laughed.

“I don’t think I regret my decision quite yet.”

“Oh, really?” he looked up at Dean’s face and smiled, but Dean didn’t smile back.

“Cas, I…” he paused, eyebrows furrowed. “There’s something you should probably know.”

He reached out a hand and Cas caught it and used it to yank himself up. He stood and leaned against the counter beside Dean, trying to shake off the feeling of Dean’s warm, dry hand wrapping tightly around his.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I…” Dean smiled abashedly at the floor. “It’s not really important, but I- I used to have this huge crush on you in high school.”

If Cas’ throat wasn’t completely dry, he would blurt out “called it!” before he could help himself. At his current state, though, he could only close his mouth with a quiet knock.

_Do you still…_

**Say it.**

_Do you, now?_

Dean finally raised his eyes from the floor to look at him.

“Oh,” Cas uttered wittily.

“I tried to tell you,” Dean said, his face solemn. “A few times. But I couldn’t. I don’t know why I didn’t just do it.”

“Yeah,” Cas said weakly, gulping and meeting Dean’s eyes. “Why didn’t you?”

They gazed at each other for a long, silent moment.

Finally, comprehending the trap he had laid for himself to fall into, Dean continued.

“Maybe- maybe I’m still a little bit -- in love with you.”

Without saying a word, Cas lowered his eyes and reached out to take Dean’s hand. His fingers trailed across Dean’s palm and wrist, tracing the assurance he felt in his grip before. Following Cas’ silence, Dean tugged at his hand and pulled him closer, smoothly pulling him into a kiss when Cas’ chest nudged into his.

Their lips crashed together and pushed against one another with sloppy, slow motions until Cas pulled back.

“Why couldn’t you do this five years ago?” He mouthed against Dean’s lips, and Dean huffed onto his face.

“Why couldn’t you?”

“Has it ever occurred to you,” Cas asked with a wry smile. “That this is as hard for me as it is for you?”

“No,” Dean answered simply. His fingers fiddled with the hem of Cas’ T-shirt, brushing against his back, which made it hard for him to concentrate on Dean’s words. “Because every time I talked to you, your speech abilities seemed to work perfectly fine.”

“Well, it’s not as hard to respond to a greeting as it is to start a conversation with your crush, is it?”

Dean pursed his lips together and then pressed his lips onto Cas’ mouth again. As Dean bit gently at his lip, Cas figured this is the only answer he would get and pulled back again. A mild groan of protest escaped Dean’s lips.

“You said…” he started, losing his breath when Dean’s lips brushed down his jaw and sucked on his neck.

 _Jesus,_  he thought, _it was like Dean had an accumulating longing all this time and once he laid his lips on him he couldn’t let go._

“You said that maybe you’re a little bit in love with me?” Despite his struggle to keep his voice steady the words came out as teasing as he meant them to be, which was just more than slightly, enough to make Dean raise his head and pull his lips into a crooked, abashed smile.

“Madly, Cas.”

His eyes darted to the floor shyly. Then he hit Cas’ side playfully and his arm wrapped around him as his lips clashed sweetly into Cas’ once more.


End file.
